Chapter 152. Nine Goblins
There are, in fact, an enormous number of kinds of things that are books, or “things that contain printed letters.”
Starting from stone steles with inscriptions on them, all the way to identity plaques, or even the shop signs we see everywhere.
Objects that don’t contain letters were actually harder to find, and yet the reason I guessed “Grimoire” wasn’t for nothing.
‘Something that hasn’t been found for long ages despite Absolute Tracking.’
There are countless letter-bearing items, but the only item that could evade Absolute Tracking was that one alone.
Well, that’s only as far as I know.
But did he sense what I was thinking?
Parun, as if it was obvious, shook his head and spoke.
“I get what you’re thinking, but the possibility of it being a Grimoire is slim.”
“Slim?”
“Yeah. I already asked about it, too. But the head of the Magic Studies Hall said they ran several experiments.”
“Experiments?”
At my question, Parun nodded.
“I didn’t hear the details, but… after several experiments, the conclusion Lortel reached was, ‘It probably isn’t a Grimoire.’”
At the certainty in his tone, I tilted my head.
“What kind of experiment did they do to be so sure?”
“Looks like you’re skeptical of the experiment itself.”
I nodded.
The experimental method that came to mind right away wasn’t complicated.
Secure a Grimoire, and track that target with the Infinite Chain.
But are Grimoires somebody’s neighbor’s dog?
‘From what I heard earlier… it takes a ridiculous amount of information just to designate a target.’
And there was no way a famous magic-path house would casually hand over information about a Grimoire.
The fact that Lortel supposedly ran an experiment at all was suspicious.
But—
“I didn’t hear that far. I don’t know why, but they kept even the experimental details under strict secrecy.”
“Kept it secret?”
“Yeah. The easiest method would be to set a Grimoire as the tracking target, but….”
“Hm.”
“Think about it. If the Infinite Chain is tracking a Grimoire, it’s either a Grimoire that already has an owner, or an ownerless Grimoire whose existence isn’t yet known. If it’s the former, it’s meaningless, and if it’s the latter, would Lortel give up?”
“……She wouldn’t give up.”
Given the circumstances, it felt like the weight was leaning toward the target not being a Grimoire.
Of course, it’s possible the Infinite Chain’s target was “a Grimoire with an owner,” and Lortel was tracking that, but…
‘If they’re so certain it isn’t a Grimoire, then it must not be.’
If it were, Lortel wouldn’t need to draw such a firm line and say, “It’s not a Grimoire.”
Still, even if it wasn’t a Grimoire, I couldn’t deny it intrigued me.
Not for “academic” reasons like Parun’s “method of breaking Absolute Tracking.”
Rather…
Yeah. It was greed.
Something like: ‘Our library has a book this precious.’ You could call it a kind of desire to show off.
Of course, that’s only if we actually find the item, but the possibility itself was a pretty enjoyable thing.
‘I’ll need to ask Teheman sunbae about this later.’
He’s the type with a lot in his head—if anyone knows something, it’d be him. He learned ancient magic, too.
Ah. Thinking that far, a curiosity suddenly arose.
“Then, can the Infinite Chain track a Grimoire?”
“……?”
Was my question too out of nowhere?
Parun tilted his head.
Soon, he narrowed his eyes and stared hard at me.
“Do you know of the existence of an ownerless Grimoire that isn’t known yet?”
“No, it’s not that.”
It’s because of a Grimoire that has an owner.
“So—can it? Or can’t it?”
At my question, Parun looked like he was thinking for a moment, then spoke.
“I haven’t fully grasped the usage method yet, but… theoretically, it isn’t impossible. No—it’s more accurate to say it should be possible.”
That was good news.
Because it meant finding the Fragment of Reverse Heavens might become a little easier.
Ah, though there was one snag: to find the Fragment of Reverse Heavens, I’d have to explain its existence to Parun, the caster.
‘Well, that’s something to think about when the time comes.’
It wasn’t a problem I needed to think about right now.
As I tried to wrap up the topic of the Infinite Chain, Parun still didn’t withdraw his suspicious gaze.
“Really not?”
“……If it were, wouldn’t I have said so?”
“You? That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a while.”
At that line—like he could see right through me—I was left speechless.
If I really did know of an ownerless Grimoire, I wouldn’t have told anyone, ever.
But it wasn’t because of greed on my part.
If I had to put it…
‘It’s because of camaraderie among comrades.’
You know the saying, “See an object, and desire is born”?
Even if you had no desire, seeing something makes you want it—and that desire harms the camaraderie between companions.
People start fighting: you should have it, I should have it.
Even if you somehow manage to find it together, you’d be lucky if it didn’t end in a knife fight over ownership.
Of course, I was the exception.
I am, always, a person transparently brimming with greed—whether the object exists or not, my heart is always stirred.
Seeing the thing in front of my eyes doesn’t change anything.
A person so full they seem empty. A person drenched in desire for possessions, and thus, rather, transcendent of desire. That is me.
Well, anyway.
“Looks like that’s all I have to say about the Infinite Chain. The principles and magical-theory parts… even if I tell you, you won’t listen, will you?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’d like you to piss off already. There’s a lot I need to look at to memorize the usage method.”
He seemed pressed for time because of the Infinite Chain’s usage method, and it made sense.
Parun’s desk was piled high with papers I couldn’t make heads or tails of. If he had to digest all of that to use the Infinite Chain, I’d be in a hurry too.
But despite Parun’s eviction order, I held my ground.
Because I still had my real main point.
“Are you deaf? Piss off al—”
“Ah, actually, I had something I wanted to ask. Like… magic studies? Or something similar to that?”
“……Magic studies?”
Was my question unexpected?
Parun frowned like he’d heard something bizarre, but perhaps his interest was piqued, because he sat back down on the sofa. I seized the moment and hurriedly continued.
If I dragged my feet with wordplay, I felt like I’d actually get thrown out.
“Do you know anything about core division?”
“Core division… what do you mean? Dividing rooms within a single core? Or literally splitting it?”
Dividing rooms within a single core meant partitioning zones inside a core.
It’s mainly a method used by mages who handle multiple attributes, so different mana doesn’t clash while being stored.
Of course, there are secret arts like the Thousand Origin Art that use multiple attributes without needing to divide rooms, but this is the general method.
But what I was asking about was clearly the latter.
“Splitting one core into two, two into three.”
“……Why?”
Parun tilted his head as if he couldn’t understand.
And of course he couldn’t.
‘Yeah… there’s no reason to split a core.’
Split a core into two, into three.
People say the more the merrier, and that taking two hits is better than taking one, but cores didn’t work that way.
First of all, splitting one isn’t easy in the first place, and…
‘Even if you split it, efficiency drops.’
Ah, for reference, Riheim sunbae’s split core was a slightly different case. That wasn’t split by a secret art—it was split by an accident.
But why was I trying to split a core?
The reason was the Circle.
After Head of House Muhad’s advice, I’d thought long and hard.
What was different between my Circle now and the Circle in the Great Forest?
Of course, it wasn’t an answer I could find quickly.
But as I examined it, I did grasp a small clue—and the biggest thing was size.
‘……Compared to the Great Forest, the Circle’s size is far too meager.’
Yeah. That was the problem.
No matter how perfect a gear is, to take force, it naturally needs the corresponding size and durability to support it—yet my current Circle was far too meager.
In other words, trying not to increase its size “for stability” ended up harming stability instead.
‘Then why not just increase the size…?’
It was impossible.
A Circle was a second core formed by pulling in natural mana. It was qualitatively different from a core formed of magic power.
Even if I tried to inject natural mana, its size and shape were already fixed.
So what would I do?
Destroy it and make it again?
‘That’s absurd.’
Among the vagrants of the Black and White Zone, there’s a proverb:
- One goblin is easy to cut down, and two goblins are easy to cut down. But three goblins are a bit tricky, and nine goblins cannot be cut down.
In other words, if you can’t do it alone, have a group jump it.
But someone might ask:
They’re still goblins, aren’t they?
That’s why it’s a more profound proverb.
‘No matter how many heads you gather, don’t forget that we’re goblins.’
Anyway.
Thinking that far, a solution suddenly occurred to me.
‘If one won’t do… then why not increase it to two?’
If two won’t do, then three. Then four. If that still won’t do, then nine. If that still won’t do? Increase it even more.
But there was a problem.
‘One Circle, I managed somehow with my Great Forest experience…’
Increasing it to two Circles was impossible.
Even if I tried like I did when making the first Circle, it would either get absorbed into the existing Circle, or fail to take form and just scatter.
So what I thought of was splitting the existing core.
But from here on, even for me, it was uncharted territory.
So I was going to use a chance.
I didn’t need to stew alone like I did when I was a Troubleshooter anymore.
Still, it was awkward to explain all of this to Parun outright.
“I’ll just say it’s related to a secret art I learned.”
“……Hm. You’re trying something new?”
“You could say that.”
Parun’s eyes shone with interest, but soon he restrained it.
Since I said it was connected to a secret art, he knew it would be rude to pry further, no matter how curious he was.
Anyway, I waited for his answer.
“But if you mean that kind of core division… you’ve come to the wrong person. My specialty is attribute mana, and while I’m not ignorant about core division, what I know is also on the side related to attribute magic.”
At Parun’s disappointing answer, I felt a faint sense of setback.
‘……Mm. So it really won’t be that easy, huh?’
I’d thought if it was Parun, he might know something.
Just as that thought crossed my mind—
Parun opened his mouth.
“Go find Henji instead.”
“……Henji?”
It was a name I hadn’t heard in a very long time.
Henji—the natural-born lunatic I met for the first time in this life.
But why that guy?
As I tilted my head at the unexpected name, Parun asked, sounding genuinely puzzled.
“Don’t tell me you don’t know.”
“……?”
“I thought you of all people would know. Weren’t you and Henji that close?”
At the question, which hit a nerve, I pressed my lips shut. But whether I reacted or not, Parun’s explanation continued.
“I guarantee it—when it comes to cores, it’ll be hard to find anyone as thoroughly versed as Henji. At least, as far as I know. Ah, this works out well.”
Parun added, as if he’d just remembered.
In the middle of all these surprising facts, the next bit of information was something I could welcome, too.
“The Thousand Origin Art research has yielded some results. You seemed to want those results… so while we’re at it, you can deliver the paper to Henji.”
If I did that…
“You should be able to get your hands on a certain degree of results.”
